Page 22 of Grant’s Heat

Bas startled with new intensity. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dude, why?” I asked nearly at the same time.

Elijah shook his head, clearly not to be dissuaded. “I’m sure with the resources I have now, it would take me about two minutes. Maybe three if she actually didn’t want to be found.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea? Bringing all that up again? Talk about going into the belly of the beast.” I was genuinely concerned now. “And maybe if she doesn’t want to be found, you should just leave well enough alone.”

I really didn’t want to see Elijah drag himself through that pigsty of emotional mud again. It was a hard enough time for us all the first time around. But that was how true friends rolled. If one man’s ship was sinking, the entire battle group went down with him, until collectively we got the weakest man sailing at his strongest again. Then we pulled the damn boat to shore with ropes tied to our backs, made the necessary repairs to the damaged hull, and lived to set sail another day on the calm waters of life, like the solid crew we were.

Elijah considered my question for a long moment before thumping on his temple with his index finger. “Every day, I live with the fucked-up mess that woman created. Except now, it’s even worse.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Ever since I was in Twentynine Palms with Abbi and I told her about the history between Hensley and me…I don’t know. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.”

“You know what?” I decided to flip-flop on the subject for a second. Maybe coming at it from his side would make a difference. “Maybe…you’re on to something. I mean, you never really got closure with the woman. She made the decision to leave, told you that child wasn’t yours, then just up and left. It might be just what you need to finally put it all to bed in your mind so you can get on with a healthy relationship with a woman again.”

And shit if that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black. What the hell did a healthy relationship with a woman even look like? I didn’t have the emotional scars Elijah did, but I still couldn’t paint that Norman Rockwell in my mind.

Elijah shook me from my brood with his next comment. “Well, I only said I was thinking about the whole thing right now.” He pushed up from where he had been leaning on the edge of Bas’s desk. “Let’s go to Lulu’s, Twombley. I need to blow off some serious steam.”

“Sorry, man.” I shook my head while stuffing my laptop into my bag. “Not tonight.”

His double take was nearly a blur. “Say what?”

“I’m just not in the mood for that place tonight. I phoned a friend a couple nights ago. I’m solid.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” He put his hand on the center of his chest, pretending to be hurt.

“It was Cybil. You said you didn’t like her last time you were over and she stopped by.”

“Oh, yeah. Not my scene, that one. Way too loud. I don’t know how you can stand all the dramatics.” He made a sour face, causing me to laugh. The man had a point. Cybil did become vocal when her clothes came off.

“What if I set it up on my own?” Elijah persisted, still looking hopeful. He pulled out his phone and swiped through his contacts. “You want to come over to my place? We don’t have to go to the club.”

I shook my head. “I think I’m just going to kick back at home.”

Shit. Why won’t he just take the hint?

While Elijah and I bantered, Sebastian walked over to the bank of windows lining the far wall of his office. He gazed out over the city while making a call home to Abbigail. We could tell because the man turned from shark to teddy bear in approximately three-point-five seconds.

Elijah didn’t waste a second to capitalize on Shark’s distraction. He swiftly stepped in front of me, blocking my view and meeting my stare straight on. But I was grateful because the guy could read me better than anyone. Even better than Bas. Elijah took the time to notice the little things about people.

“All right, level with me,” he demanded in a tone for my ears alone. “Do you really want to be alone tonight? Or do you just not want to be with another woman other than Rio Gibson?”

“No,” I said with finality. “Just drop that bullshit right now.” I looked around him to our other friend still busy on the phone and then swung my bag over my shoulder. “The last thing I want to do is get into this with him. If he overhears you, it will be a reenactment of the Inquisition. Hard pass, thank you very much.” Then I raised my voice loud enough for Bas to hear. “Call if you need anything over the weekend.”

Sebastian gave a wave, but he was engrossed in his conversation with Abbi—pretty much since she had first stumbled through his office door.

Strangely, and really unsettlingly, I was starting to envy the bastard for it.

“Where are you staying tonight?”

To anyone else, Elijah’s question would have been as bizarre as my train of thought. But the man did know me through and through, down to my unusual habitation habits. While I reveled in having as many homes as possible, roots were a different thing. Roots meant danger. They were the kind of things that came loose and blew away during storms. Nowhere did that truth apply better than in the path of real life.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” I finally confessed. “I was serious about Lulu’s, though. Please don’t start with that bullshit again.”

Banks held up his hands. “I know, I know. I was going to say I could just come over and we could hang out. No women. Just kick back. Find a game on satellite or something.”